Memory is a form of architecture, built one moment at a time.
We have all never fully belonged to any one skyline. Every experience arrives once, exactly as it is, and is never repeated the same. What remains is our memory, and whatever shadow we have tried to capture in a photograph.
A sunrise is only itself once from ever changing rooftops, ever changing cities, ever changing light. Not one of them repeats itself. The sky that morning is gone. The version of me standing beneath it is gone too. What's left is a photograph, which is not the moment, only its shadow. But a shadow is still proof that something stood there.
I have spent most of my life in motion. A skyline memorized just long enough to leave it, a street learned only by walking it once, a hand held or photographed and then let go. Every place I passed through left something behind in me, the way a blueprint remembers a wall long after the wall is gone.
This is what this collection of photos is. A record of what I saw, what I felt, sunrises that will never rise the same way twice, skylines that held me for a night and then let me go
Memory built the architecture. This book is the shadow of my life when I always felt somewhere in between.